Facing the Ghost
by Specimen XVI
Summary: Yet another fic exploring Vince's character. Small AC references. I hope you like it. I've put up a good deal of time making this first chapter. Good criticism is always welcome.
1. Trio Slaughter

"Everything goes by, only serenity remains"

-Lao Tse

An attempt to action fanfic starring my favourite character, Vincent. Constructive criticism is very welcome. Flaming, on the other hand, well can't do much about it.

Facing the Ghost

Chapter One: Trio Slaughter.

Red danced from left to right as the golden hue of metal stepped over the glowing sand, under the stinging sun. Eyes as wrathful as only fresh blood can be shone in violence as his thoughts foretold the coming of a strong gale which would give birth to a nigh sandstorm. He looked around, as he saw naught but the plains surrounding Gold Saucer, in exception of course, with the hard-to-miss tower of entertainment itself. The approaching gale led him to faintly cower his face inside his cloak, and keep his tread, ducking slightly sin signs of effort against the wind. Two and a half years have passed since the vanquishing of Sephiroth into the Lifestream, and it seemed that the business of Gold Saucer remained stacked with those willing to drain their wealth into the plentiful attractions, as though they were certain that there would be no tomorrow. The few times Valentine had visited it, while in AVALANCHE, name which he always found a tad cheesy, he had scorned the anxious, hyperactive attitude of those in search for fun. His own attitude, though he knew was far from the best, was at least respectable compared to the one in which grown-ups, supposedly fully mature, would turn into whiny little kids. But he would not blame them, for their hearts had not endured his ache, increasing as the minutes went by, nor had their heads burdened the growls and voices of the demons that floated through his blood. For thirty-two and a half years he had mastered the arts of keeping his countenance stern, and his monsters paced. They spoke to him with thoughts, which in his mind they transformed into horrid, painful textures every time he closed his eyes. And he endured them for a span of thirty years, with his body as locked as his eyelids.

It seemed more than obvious that he headed not to the Gold Saucer. His affairs led him to a less festive place, and, needless to say, much more distrusting. There has been another notorious slaughter in Corel Prison. Though the mind of Vincent had grown immune to the horror of death, a legacy handed in by his job as a Turk, it had been some time since such surreptitious calamities had astonished the peoples from Wutai to Kalm. In his thoughts the fact that none of such news could have any connection whatsoever to Lucrecia, pounded his heart's load with disappointment. But it may have something to do with Hojo.

* * *

_The theme of battle victory echoed above the surface of the deep lake of the Forgotten Capital. It was the default ringtone for all mobiles._

_"Vincent here"_

_"Please hold on a few seconds." Just then a beep sounded on the other side._

_"Must be Reeve"_

_"Vincent? This is Reeve."_

_My, what a pleasant surprise Echoed Galian._

_"Reeve. How did you manage to get this number?" Vincent's words broke in tune with his voice tone. Even he found them a bit rude._

_"Sorry to bother you. News has it something has occurred in Corel Prison. The singing optimistic trio has been slaughtered."_

_Vincent thought in such moment that he did not care about any cheesy singing team, muttering senseless prose in the middle of a forsaken flesh pile. He then found Reeve's call meaningless and somewhat of an annoyance._

_"Who are they?" Asked Vincent, revealing a tail of curiosity in order to relief his previous harsh tone, though he cared not about who had really been murdered. Anyone unfortunate enough to have met his destiny in such place has a better breakthrough in the Lifestream. He suddenly recalled a commentary made by Cloud about such place, leading Vincent to assume that his former team had met such unfortunate event. He repressed his thoughts, seemingly influenced by Hellmasker._

_"Nobodies, Vincent. They were despised by every convict in the place. You probably don't know this, but we slightly met them in the place way before we found you in the Shinra Mansion. Anyway, the reason such event has been something to worry about is not the people who were murdered, but how they were murdered. Now being the world-trotter I have heard you have become, this little incident might sound interesting to you. It completely resides in your free will whether to visit the place or not, though if you choose to do so, I would be grateful if you could share the information you can muster. Being a former Turk, this might be fairly easy."_

_Vincent met with his trademark silence, which echoed as hesitant._

_"It's completely up to you. I'll be expecting your call in any case."_

_"But…" Vincent muttered, only to hear the hang-up beeping sound as an answer._

* * *

It was the conversation that practically gave birth to a new age of Vincent's curiosity. **_How_ they were murdered**, said Reeve. His thought of death sceneries involved mostly bullet-pierced suits and flesh, besides the corpses he left away to rot while in Cloud's company. Even though neither Reeve nor Cait Sith had visited the crime scene, in order for him to show such restive impression over it seemed like something worth wasting time for. Even if it had no relationship with his never-marring life quest, it would at least distract him. Solving a mystery, even if it felt like a hero's role which he was not fit for, could lead him to another perspective which had nothing to do with the princess charming of his life.

Before awareness, he walked near the fences before the small accident on the land. Quiet as the wind was, he crossed the fence door and came into the small, ramshackle village. But just before reaching the crime scene near a junk pile residue, what seemed to be a truck, a rather huge, dark-tanned man approached. Denim Jacket with no undershirt, jeans and a pair of boots, he made his presence even more noticeable, which was useless regarding his aspect.

"What business do you have with the defunct?" The obese man asked.

"I'm here to research the events, the cause and…"

"Look pretty boy, I have no clue where you come from, or who you are, but if you have no relationship whatsoever with any of them, I simply can't let you through. Boss's orders."

To the latter, Vincent figured out that his "partner" was talking about Mr. Coates. He had heard about him before, as a Turk. It seems Coates failed as a clothes salesman in Corel before it fell to ashes. Months after the burning of the village, burglars began to roam around with the lizards, making the surroundings of Corel and the desert a hazardous place to be. After Dyne saved his already wrecked lifestyle from a brigand of thieves, Coates had no other choice but to follow his saviour's orders. It became a habit. During Dio's establishment of the prison, Dyne automatically set himself as at the top of the power pyramid, leaving Mr. Coates to the managing of the village, and the prisoner chocobo races, practically everything that needed to be done. Cait Sith had told everyone the story written in a report which was mainly conformed by Dio's and witnesses' testimonials. After Dyne's death, there was little information to be gathered, and the Shinra had Sephiroth and other matters to attend. Thus Vincent arrived to the conclusion that Mr. Coates was the highest in the Corel prison hierarchy, and the most accurate in information.

"Fair enough. Where's Mr. Coates?"

Vincent could have just lied and said he was some sort of half-brother of some sort. Various reasons led him not to. First of all, though his countenance could not betray him in his treason, he never held a style nor was fond of treachery. There was also the evident part: Vincent's quiet looks and charm had no similarity with any of the men who lied on the floor, for what he could see. And of course there's the entire process of telling a convincing story of how a random man, lying on the floor after who knows how many days, and his own tragic, dark character were deeply entwined in a heart-wrecking life history. Well maybe not heart-wrecking, but even if he could ever muster his utter creativity into a brief story of how they were related, it would all resume itself in muttering and "eh… ah… uhmm."

"And why in this desert's life would you even consider the possibility of having Mr. Coates waste his precious time with the spooky likes of you?" growled the robust man, sprouting a spark of bad breath which floated into Vincent's red cloak.

"What is he doing with his time right now that is so precious? I would rather not think Mr. Coates would want a fourth man resting in his own blood pool." Vincent spoke with a darker voice, which intensified the threat to the point he could she how the man's eyes twitched. He took off rapidly.

That same instant the dark-golden metal feet approached the corpses prudently. Their eyes remained close, which seemed rather strange for Vincent unless they were closed by a third person when they were found. He stood in a gulf created by the sea of blood, so dense yet so vast, a puddle combined consecutively with the one next. The man in the middle had the biggest stain. Red with red, as Vincent's eyes met deeper into the pool as though he was submerged in it, seeing corpses rotten to the skull and yell at him as his stern countenance could hardly hold itself. And soon red became black, and aware of the sun, the metal sparkling as it approached him, and the ghastly scenery just before him, darkness was all his mind thought of. And then it broke into red again.

"Are you the one responsible for the deaths of these men?" asked a man wearing a white suit with a sunset-pink shirt underneath. Mr. Coates had seemingly changed his emerald attire to a rather lucrative and snobbish suit which would fit better on a cactuar. "Did you kill these men, because Hersner here says you did and he-"

"I just arrived. But if it were me, would you be able to do something about it?" Vincent felt he had crossed the line as he spoke dashingly. "I am here on Reeve Tuesti's account to figure out the cause of demise of those three men you have so morbidly left there to rotten. My name is Vincent Valentine."

"Look, Cupid or whatever, things here at Corel Prison do not need explanation. If you're yet another Shinra reporter, please tell President Rufus we do not need a bigger scandal than the one they have already formed." Coates gestured Vincent to take off.

"It's Vincent. Look, it's simple, Coates. I can just have a small talk with Dio and hold you responsible. Then we can go have a talk with the head of the World Restoration Organization back in Midgar an-"

"Alright, alright. Go ahead 'n look at the bodies then". Mr. Coates had no clue what all that big talk was all about. But he knew it was a lot of trouble. On the other hand Vincent was totally bluffing. Even though he hated treachery, this time it was different. Coates may had been hiding something

By the time Coates headed back to the trailer, it was right around noon. Direct sunlight revealed a green substance in the wounds of the men. Though one could think it would be mainly due to the process of rotting, his eyes could tell that the openings in the flesh had been carved from inside out. The jags in the muscles faced outwards, as though the injury came from inwards. It was poisoned flesh, but not coming from the normal Bio magic. One major detail Vincent could not miss: their mouths showed bruises on their sides. Closer yet, inside their mouths, there seemed to be no tongues. The remnant was apparently chewed. To his left side he grabbed with his metal claws a small jar from his pocket, to further collect blood. Once done, he headed to the trailer where Coates was at.

"I've come here to tell you I'm done, Coates. I suggest you at least bury the bodies or burn them. Don't be so sick." Vincent slammed the door, as he had done when he got in. Moments later, as he headed towards the exit fence, a shrilling voice asked him to stop.

"Hey, um, Cloak Guy! Come back!" To these words Vincent was alert. He unleashed his gun, and as he turned, Mr. Coates stood behind him, just about ready to wet his pants. "I would just want to offer you a quick exit through the elevator."

Though the stern character and the demons inside him hated the excessive noise of fireworks and children running like spoiled minions of Sephiroth, he would find it far more comfortable to head to Gold saucer and get back to earth through Corel than going back through the desert to encounter Huge Worms or enemies of some sort. He would beat them easily anyhow, but his mood was not set right for such action; at least after seeing death in such enigmatic expression; even more enigmatic than he could bear. Vincent followed Coates, who led him into the elevator.


	2. The Black Hat

Chapter Two: The Black Hat

Stepping out of the elevator, Vincent came to a rather spaced room with a rectangular table made of spring oak wood, where jockeys sat. Some held restlessness in their arms and legs as they shook them on and under the table. An ill-looking jockey in brown seemed the most nervous, staring at Vincent in fear. Others showed serenity as they waited for the Chocobo race to begin. A clown-like looking young woman approached him. Vincent would only look straight, highlighting his height superiority.

"Hello, sir. Do you come here to race in exchange for your freedom?"

Vincent heard something from Coates about a creepy little girl, and in the middle of his mumbling, he handed in an envelope, probably authorizing Vincent to step out with no hindering of any sort. It would probably run headstrong against the Golden Saucer Administration Policy, but Coates believed nothing should be mentioned to Dio. Vincent took the envelope from his pocket and handed it in. In such moment a voice invited the jockeys to head to the race track. One in brown showed a countenance of mixed sensations: fear, hatred and gore, staring at his eyes. The blonde, short girl stood right in front of Vincent, reading the letter, beforehe headed for the exit.

"Hold on! It says here you don't have to run the race, indeed. However I must make sure Dio hears nothing of this, meaning I would most probably have to check out on him. If you could just run the race, it would really make things much easier for both of us." She came closer to him as he soon saw a constant shake of his head.

"I am unable to comply with that." There was something about the phrase, and the way he said it, which instantly absolved him from any obligations his will disdained from. "I will make my exit stealth. Believe me: the Gondola manager will not feel my presence."

To such words a shrill came forth, as the quickest agony came in a flesh-breaching slash. The ground trembled finely, but constantly. Both the sound and the tremor came from the outside part of the Chocobo Square. Soon the oversized birds began their singular choir of despair, intensifying the terror in everyone around. More hollers came forth from outside as footsteps blended with the quake. Thumps were heard on the ground from time to time as inert bodies met with the glass-fiber floor tiles.

Vincent headed out as he ordered his companion to keep silent and steady. The door opened surreptitiously, as he pushed it, but it shut down again. In a strong attempt to reopen the door, it shed neon light on the floor before it shut once again. A growl came from the outside. A shot barrelled from Vincent's gun through the floor and out. A faint yet fey yell came as blood shed. For the third time Vincent attempted an opening, succeeding towards the surprise of yet more red. Walls were blasted, slashed and stained with it. Vincent's eyes sunk yet again over the lines and dashes of blood, as from the bodies it sprouted slowly yet abundantly. Once, again it all became dark in his mind, as it fainted, careless of the body which held itself in the midst of the room. Jockeys, gamblers, Saucer staff in their tight uniforms, even a black chocobo with a black hat besides it lied there, soaked. From behind the counter a green dash missed Vincent's face as heevaded it with a head stroke backwards. He fired back at what seemed like a man in a pitch black suit. A hole opened right above the bridge of hisnose as he fell back behind the counter.

Screams magnified in the background, seemingly from the other sections of the place; though the long stairs before the Chocobo stage was clear. Eyes widened when he approached the round, neon-lighted counter as he saw the assailer's countenance. Eyes fully black, as though his pupils had taken over them. But Vincent's eyes widened for a different reason: a tentacle replaced the corpse's left arm. Once again it assailed Vincent's face. In speed he backed off, as the golden claw squished the tentacle into green plasma-like mass on the floor. As the remains of the tentacle squirmed in a wincing pattern, Vincent soon related the color, present in the wounds back in Corel Prison. The scenery came back to his mind as though it hurt his thoughts and head. Lightning in his mind dashed his thought as the growl of Chaos hastened his heart. Only his will was to avail at such moment, as it had whenever Vincent had the chance to, whenever any of his demons came present, as he focused to keep his mind from being possessed, and his body from transforming.

"Is it safe now?" said the sweet voice from the Jockey's Stall Room.

Hearing no response, she came out. She stared the room as though she had hoped never to have seen anything such monstrous.

"Go home, young girl." Vincent said rapidly, as to dispatch her.

"No. Who are you? My name is Es-".

"I care not! Leave now!" Vincent growled. His face became dark for a second as it adopted a gargoyle-like expression, and flashed back to his vapid countenance. "Forgive me. This place has become dangerous now. I urge you to leave now." To this, the Chocobo Race manager known as Esther headed to the main square to head out to the gondola.

It mattered little now whether Vincent had raced in the chocobo tracks or not, so he headed to the Battle Square where Dio might have been. He hovered over the stairs of the chocobo square entrance.

A handful of things lay in Dio's showroom anew. A picture of Meteor in a golden frame besides Dio's gigantic portrait, and a chunk of hard, dark stone, seemingly a vestige of the apocalyptic figure where the Keystone once was located, beside other things. But there was no sight of Dio. Stepping beside the new relic in the showroom, right in the middle of the place, Vincent stood sternly.

"Dio, stand up."

Dio stared at such face and tried to sort it out as familiar. But his evident fear allowed no reasoning. "Don't bite my tongue please!" Eyes widened too fast in order for Dio to notice before they turned back to the deep cherry they seemed to always remain.

"Tell me what you saw." Vincent kneeled, figuring that Dio standing up was not a choice at the moment. It seemed the bulky man, with the rather confident appearance had lost all courage to even follow orders; most of his faculties had been narrowed to simply tremble his hands, which pointed at his closed, O-shaped mouth. His eyes seemed petrified and wide.

As soon as Vincent realized that there was no hope for any information from the man, Esther came into the arena.

"Why have you not left yet?" said an almost tempered Vincent.

"The Gondola section is invaded. I wondered if we could ask for a buggy and go back through the desert. I see we're going to have to take the buggy ourselves due to…" Esther took a prevented stare at Dio, who seemed to show no movement.

"Fine. Where should we head at?" Esther ran through the door, and gestured both men to follow her. Vincent once again drew his weapon, heading out to the arena gate room, and next on, towards the doors to access the Chocobo Square. Dio did his best to run, though his o-shaped expression seemed to show no threat of change. Esther kept up with them, wearily. Vincent kept his gun in alert. A growl came from a purpled eyed man, coming from the event square door, as he threw himself at the girl. Vincent shot his head, spraying greenish blood on the carpet. Dio stared widely, as he had before and then kept with the group.

A voice with a distinctive accent shrilled, coming from the pipe heading to the Wonder Square, from the Chocobo square stairs. Vincent turned his face in a dash, as he heard the name.

"Miss Yuffie, We must leave!" said a distinctive Wutaiense. Soon after the ninja girl sprung out of the pipe, rolled out into the ground. Standing up, she grabbed her flying shuriken, and turned to the red hue she had long missed.

"Vincent!" She shrilled in despair and overjoy.

"No time for reencounter hugs. We must go!" He replied in his cynical manner. From the same pipe Yuffie had rolled out, came three more dreadful creatures. Yuffie made perfect use of her weapon, fanning it off, as it crossed one's chest, and cut the other's neck. Vincent decimated the remaining one. As soon as Yuffie's shuriken was restored, they headed inside.

"Right!" Off we go!"

Thus the group of five (Yuffie and her servant came along) headed to the elevator. Esther headed to the Jockey's Stall Room and from a safe behind a loose wallpaper sheet she drew a key, apparently for a buggy. A deafening thump came from the door, almost knocking it down. They all rushed to the elevator, squeezing in an awkward manner. Vincent's claw remained outside as the elevator closed on him. The Stall Room's door was slammed open, and deep groans invaded the spacy, fancy room.

"What of the other people?" asked Dio, finally relieving Esther by muttering words.

"No time to worry for them," said the voice behind the crimson cloak. Vincent seemed to have not moved his mouth when he spoke. The elevator door closed while both sides slid in grey. Soon enough the metal whined as the elevator door above them was beginning to budge. The party of five then came out to a dusk-splashed sky, which hues reflected on the whispering sand.

* * *

A/N: If anyone's ever reading this, which I doubt, you might think this story has developped as an "added to the pile" Yuffentine. It might be, as it might not, though I'm trying my best to keep it original. And as a side note, I wouldn't need to write fanfics if I owned the characters of Final Fantasy. 


End file.
